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The Burn of the Underworld

Page 8

by Meg Xuemei X


  Fuck, this felt really nice.

  I never wanted to get out of here, get out of this clean luxury.

  At some point, exhausted, I lay my head on the side of the tub and fell asleep.

  I woke when large hands lifted me out of the water. Opening my eyes, I found a pair of gray-blue eyes gazing at me.

  “It’s better to sleep in a bed than in water,” said Elijah.

  I was about to snap at him and tell him to go to hell if he thought I’d let him claim me, and that I didn’t care about his ancient Sváva practice of claiming a female on the battlefield. But then his pure male scent of sandalwood and clean wind wrapped around me like a sweet dream, like the home I should have had but never did.

  He put me on the ground, took a soft towel from the rack, and started to pat my body dry. I was surprised by his tenderness; I didn’t believe any Sváva was capable of such a thing.

  So, I didn’t fight him off. I enjoyed having him take care of me like this—this gentleness and compassion was a luxury in the Underworld, probably in every corner of the universe.

  Ever since he’d brought me here, I’d found that I also had a feminine side. I felt like a woman for the first time.

  I looked around. My filthy, tattered clothes were gone. Either Elijah or Saphyira had come in and thrown them away while I was asleep in the tub.

  I stared at my reflection in the mirror.

  Without dirt, mud, and stripes coating my face, I was looking at a completely different girl. My silver hair cascaded down my elegant shoulders. My skin was pure golden. My dark green eyes sparkled with life and dreams, hot yet full of defiance, and my pink, full lips parted with surprise.

  I’d never known I looked like this, or that I could look like this.

  I was shinier and lovelier than a Sváva. I didn’t have their cold beauty, but mine was better, fierier. Fire burned inside of me, screaming to be unleashed, making me full of life.

  “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, Calamity,” Elijah whispered, meeting my gaze in the mirror and tossing the towel to the ground. “Even when you were in the arena, covered in dirt and blood, you were still the most beautiful, fiercest thing I’ve ever laid eyes on.”

  It was the first time someone had ever called me beautiful. And there was no lie in it.

  His gray-blue eyes roamed my body, harsh male lust burning in their depths.

  My breath hitched, my heart lurching at his lethal beauty, and my own lust ignited like a wildfire in my bloodstream. I wanted this archangel.

  I dipped my gaze from his eyes, lips, wings, and perfect torso to his powerful legs. A bulge at the front distorted his denim pants.

  I swallowed.

  Thoughts escaped me.

  I forgot what lay ahead tomorrow—blade, blood, or death.

  My past was dust, and I had no future. All I had was this moment.

  So, I’d take and claim the last pleasure in the world. I’d strip this gorgeous male bare, ride him to glory for the first and last time, and then I’d kill some demons tomorrow before they cut me down.

  I’d have to find an angelblade after my sinful indulgence, after I fucked this archangel.

  His lust-laced, hooded eyes dipped to my left breast—to be precise, they fell on a spot on top of my breast.

  Had I forgotten to clean the spot?

  But I’d scrubbed myself all over, more than ten times!

  His fingers landed on the spot, sending a tingling buzz over my skin. He traced a circle around the spot. In its wake, I felt a slight burn, as if there was a phantom mark in that place. As I looked down, a symbol of five white petals appeared on my left breast; inside, a blue flame formed and glowed.

  My breath caught, panic searing my throat.

  Had my magic finally manifested at the worst time? Xavier had drilled the warning into my head that I should never let a Sváva archangel know that I possessed magic. And if I did, I would court a disaster worse than my own death.

  I’d felt the stir of my magic in the arena, but that had been a different situation. I’d wished to use my power to burn the demons so I would have a chance at escaping with Max, Ash, and Killian.

  “The mark of the Queen of the Night,” Elijah murmured in awe. He used an ancient angelic tongue, yet I understood it. I didn’t know how. It was like I almost had a genetic memory, like it was my heritage.

  Maybe I didn’t feel like myself right now. I felt like another person with this archangel. It was as if someone else was wearing my skin, yet it felt right.

  It was as if everything in me that had been repressed for too long started to awaken. All my senses swirled to life, piquing my carnal need. I hadn’t felt such unbridled desire before I’d met this angel, before I met all three of the new men today.

  This awakening and arousal scared me, yet it thrilled me even more.

  The beast had broken the leash and chains, and I liked it. It was as if I’d been waiting for this moment my entire life.

  “What’s happening to me?” I breathed out as I shivered in want.

  “You’re going into heat,” Elijah said, his eyes shining liquid blue. “Your mark manifested because it recognized me. It knows you’re mine and acknowledges it. My primal instinct has also awoken, and my cock has never been this hard for anyone before.”

  His words didn’t make sense, but it no longer mattered. At his declaration, lust surged through me like wildfire. In its wake, nothing could survive, except my need for this male in front of me.

  I must fuck him. I must fuck him raw and hard until he couldn’t take it, and then I’d still fuck him, and mark him as mine over and over. And then I’d fuck him relentlessly all over again. He’d beg and scream, but I still wouldn’t stop...

  I widened my eyes and parted my lips in shock at my savage inner thoughts.

  “The mating call is in my blood, too,” he whispered, his face twisting with restraint. “My control is slipping.”

  “Should I run?” I purred aggressively.

  I blinked. This wasn’t me. My inner vixen was taking over.

  “Maybe you should run,” I offered.

  “There’s nowhere to run, for either of us.” He chuckled darkly.

  It only made sense for me to step toward the object of my burning desire, to take him. But Elijah pounced first.

  His mouth crashed down on mine, raw and hard, his hunger unnerving yet turning me on like no other. Our breath mingled, his addictive male scent burning in my nostrils. I opened my lips before he even urged, and his tongue invaded my mouth, sweeping over my hard palate.

  Pleasure buzzed from my cheeks, tingling and spreading all the way to my curled toes. I stretched my naked body against his long, hard torso.

  A harsh male groan rose in the back of his throat, and Elijah lifted me up, wheeled me around, and put me on the high counter without breaking our hungry kiss.

  He spread my legs and stepped in between them.

  His devouring kiss deepened, his hand in my hair, his other hand cupping my heavy breast and fondling it before moving further down, sliding between my thighs and palming my sex.

  Every cell in me came alive, and I shivered at his scorching touch.

  He withdrew his kiss, and I panted hard while I protested vehemently.

  “Your pussy is so wet for me,” he said coarsely, his voice seeping with satisfaction. “You’re ready for me. You’re ready to get fucked.”

  “Then what are you waiting for?” I demanded like an alpha, like I owned the Underworld instead of the demon emperor. I utterly forgot I’d been a slave. “Fuck me.”

  “You’re nothing like what I pictured.” He chuckled, yet he didn’t do my bidding right way. “I thought I’d never find an equal.”

  He bent his blond head, his golden wings arching behind him. His mouth found my nipple, sucking hard, then traced down my stomach until he buried his face between my thighs.

  His tongue lashed out, flicking at my swollen clit, up and down, and then in a slow
circle. My legs jerked at the incredible sensation. I hadn’t expected that the tip of a wicked tongue could offer such mind-bending pleasure.

  I was all new to this sensual foreplay, yet I’d become a player.

  I inserted my fingers into his short hair to drag him even closer.

  Easy, babe, he said in my head, his voice laced with the same burning lust storming in my veins, yet he wanted to show me that he was still in control. I’ll take care of you.

  His tongue brushed open my folds and thrust into my heated channel.

  I cried out as pleasure spiked my nerves. If he kept doing this, my first orgasm would come sooner than I knew. I reached out to trace the ridge of his velvet wings, and he shuddered at my touch.

  He raised his head from between my thighs; liquid blue flame lit his eyes. I had thought his race was all ice and steel. I hadn’t expected to see such fire in him, a heavenly fire that could burn through the galaxy.

  His mouth found mine again, and I tasted my own essence, which only fueled the wildfire inside me.

  “You taste of rose and honeysuckle,” he murmured against my lips.

  My hands slid toward his trench coat. I wanted to tear it off him along with the rest of his clothes. I wanted his bare skin pressing against my searing flesh to cool it. He helped me eagerly and did a better job. In no time, he stood naked before me.

  I pulled away from him, as I couldn’t fight my curiosity to look at a nude male body.

  My gaze dipped from his massive shoulders to his six-pack stomach, then farther down to his huge erection.

  It was silky and gorgeous, the first cock I’d ever seen. Unable to hold back, I reached out a hand and formed a half-fist around his shaft. It throbbed in my palm, and the archangel gasped and thrust his dick up, rubbing it against my tight fist.

  I glided my hand down to the base of his cock, then moved up to its smooth crown, then pumped down again, adding weight. He gasped, his eyes burning brightly and darkly at once.

  “You’re a natural in the bedroom, my woman,” he said.

  I wasn’t his woman. I would go down to the arena before dawn tomorrow to kill or be killed. But I refused to dwell on it now. I’d live for this moment and burn briefly, like a moth to the flame.

  “It might not fit,” I breathed out as I kept pumping his cock. “You’re too big.”

  “It will fit. Your pussy is soaking wet for me,” he said. “You’ll see. You’re my match, and I’ve finally found you.”

  How could the highest ranking archangel say such things to a branded slave? But then, why would I focus on his words and promises? After he had his way with me, he’d forget all about me tomorrow morning.

  Even if he wanted to keep me, he couldn’t fight the orders of the Emperor of the Underworld, who had explicitly demanded I return to the arena.

  He could only have me tonight.

  The heel of his palm rubbed up and down my sex, sending another wave of pleasure to my nerve endings.

  “If I could, I would keep you as mine and mine only.” There, he just said it, then his mouth fell on mine again.

  As his tongue thrust into my mouth, his cock aimed at my entrance. I wiggled my ass and urged him in. I needed his cock to be inside me more than anything.

  I was drowning in a lake of lust.

  Elijah thrust into me, his wings spreading wide and propelling back and forth in sync with his movements.

  I cried out as pain and pleasure blossomed in me at once.

  He stilled, beads of sweat forming on his forehead as he restrained himself from pounding into me again. “Did I hurt you?”

  I couldn’t respond at first because the feelings were so intense.

  He cursed himself as he slowly, unwillingly pulled out of me. “I should have prepared you more. You’re a virgin, and I’m a selfish bastard.”

  My eyes widened. I wouldn’t expect someone like him, a Sváva, to consider my feelings—the feelings of a branded slave. When it came to this particular archangel, I had all sorts of contradictory feelings, which now shattered and melted before my unbridled lust for him.

  My legs clamped around his firm ass to prevent him from withdrawing further.

  He thrust into me again. He glided in and out, steady and smooth, in careful measures, but I wanted more than that.

  Blissful pleasure had washed away the initial pain.

  I wanted his heavenly fire again. I wanted to strip him completely bare and burn with him until there was no tomorrow, until tomorrow never came.

  I planted my feet on the counter and squatted, my hands falling back to support my weight, and I propelled my hips toward him to take him in deeper.

  An animalistic sound rumbled in his chest, as if I’d just conjured up his primal male instincts.

  He shoved his cock deep inside my warm flesh, again and again, brutally.

  “Your scent flows in my blood, dominating my every thought,” he gasped. “I can’t be gentle anymore, Calamity. I need to claim you. I need to fuck you hard.”

  My blood heated at the promise. I wanted to see what he could give when his lust burned like this. I didn’t want him to hold back one inch.

  As I drove toward him again, he dragged me to the edge of the counter, then pounded into me with his archangel’s strength.

  His hard cock filled my every inch and kept stretching my inner walls, pleasure hitting my every fiber like high musical notes caught in fire.

  We slammed toward each other, fucking raw and hard like two mindless beasts.

  “Elijah,” I moaned his name. “More!”

  It was a wonder I still remembered his name in the midst of such heat.

  “You like my cock, babe,” he groaned. “You like my big cock. After I fuck you hoarse, I’ll shove it down your throat. I want you to taste my archangel cum. I want you to have all of me, and I’ll claim your every inch, like a man claiming his first woman.”

  I panted. “Just fuck me hard, angel.”

  “Say this tight, hot little pussy is mine, mine to play with, mine to fuck, and mine to guard.”

  That was nuts, but he thrust into my molten core with his mighty strength at the declaration.

  “Babe, your pussy gloves me perfectly,” he said, his face distorted by intense lust. “You’re perfect for me. And you’re the only woman I’ll ever fuck from now on.”

  If I were the only woman he’d ever fuck from now on, soon he’d have no woman to fuck. He wouldn’t keep the promise he made in the throes of passion, yet the idea of him fucking another pumped white-hot rage into me.

  Before I could act on my fury, he pulled my legs onto his massive shoulders and drove into my depths with abandon.

  When he delivered another series of powerful thrusts, I screamed in pleasure and exploded around his cock.

  He groaned and let out ancient angelic curses while he kept thrusting in me, riding my waves of orgasm and prolonging it.

  With a roar and a few more powerful pumps, he emptied inside me.

  He didn’t leave me; his cock remained rock-hard inside me. His golden wings fanned out and wrapped around me protectively and possessively.

  “Ayanna,” he whispered. “My Ayanna. My eternal blossom.”

  I hissed in rage, lifting my ankles off his shoulders to kick him away at the insult. He’d just come in me, yet he was whispering another woman’s name.

  “Open your eyes, fucking asshole! I’m not Ayanna. I’m not your fucking blossom!”

  He grabbed my ankles, pulled them around his waist, and pressed me closer to him.

  “Shush, Calamity, shush, babe,” he whispered. “Your true name is Ayanna, which means eternal blossom in ancient Earth tongue. You’re Princess Ayanna Darken. You bear the mark of the Queen of the Night on your left breast. You’re the lost heir to—”

  I loosened the fist that grabbed his shiny, golden feathers. I had planned to drag out a few in retaliation when he had called me another woman’s name.

  The blue flame that had manifested faintl
y on my breast at Elijah’s touch flared, tracing every inch of my body, flowing down my arms, until an icon—two half-circles embracing each other—on my inner arm radiated dark gold.

  The hot pain in my chest eased.

  “Four icons strung together by the glyph of an ivy vine; the mating bond,” Elijah breathed out, without checking the number of icons on my arm.

  I stared at the four identical icons lined up vertically, a glowing glyph of an ivy vine connecting them all.

  Among the four icons, only one shone brightly like the North Star.

  Then the radiant one flared, swirling into flame and slammed into Elijah’s bare chest.

  I widened my eyes in fear and cried out, “No!”

  I hadn’t intended to scorch him. The icon had acted on its own.

  It was too late to prevent the disaster now.

  Elijah would retaliate. No one got away with striking a Sváva, especially the highest-ranking archangel, but I couldn’t even recoil, since he held me tightly against him.

  Elijah didn’t strike back. Instead, an icon that was identical to the one on my inner arm manifested on his cut chest, beaming deep gold.

  “Your magic has marked me,” Elijah said in awe.

  What did he mean by that? And why wasn’t he mad at what I’d done to him?

  Before I could question him, lust came like a tidal wave and dragged me under.

  “Mating fever,” the archangel rasped. “It’s started.”

  “Is it even worse than being in heat?” I whimpered.

  He only gazed at me, his scarred yet gorgeous face distorted by lust as he fought for control, fought between being a man and a beast, and he was losing to his raw need.

  I’d already given up on the fight.

  I held the back of his neck to secure him and thrust my hips toward him, riding hard on the impressive length of his cock.

  Elijah grabbed my ass, his fingers sinking into my skin, and pounded into my pussy with brutal and possessive force.

  Lust bound us both, as if it would never let us go.

  “I’ll fuck you from behind after this, drilling deep into you,” he said. “I’ll fuck you until you can’t scream anymore. And I’ll fuck you all night, mate, and every night after that.”

 

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